Sweet Flowers Cast Beautiful Shadows
by WinterVixen59
Summary: Harley Kratall is a senior at Imperial University. He's never been the popular one, like his two younger brothers. He works hard, and keeps to himself. Then he meets the bubbly and innocent Kora, a transfer student, who charms her way into breaking his shell open. With her friends and graduation approaching, this year will be one wild ride. Rated T for language


**Author's Note: READ FIRST! Hi everyone! This is my first story. I've had this idea kicking around for a bit and now I'm finally bringing it to life! Constructive criticism is always welcome. This story is an original idea, so any ideas that seem copied are not intentional. I love Greek mythology and I love the idea of all of them interacting as college students. Likes and reviews will be dictating how quickly I upload next chapters. Now that that's all over with, enjoy the story: Sweet Flowers Cast Beautiful Shadows.**

Chapter 1

Harley

"AAHHH!"

I jump awake as something slobbery slides across my face. Flinging into a sitting position, I look down at my attacker, Spot, laying on my lap with a smug grin, expecting a scratch for waking me up. I wipe my face with a groan, and throw myself back down on my bed.

"Spot, buddy, ten more minutes, then we can go o-u-t-s-i-d-e."

Seeing that I have laid back down, my miniature pony of a dog whimpers and paws at my chest. I start to sit up, which prompts him to leap off and run back and forth at the foot of my bed. I reach for my black morning slippers, and head to my bedroom door, Spot bounding down the hallway ahead of me like an overeager toddler waiting for a toy.

As I pass by my brothers' rooms, I bang on each of them in turn. "Zach! Rick! Get your asses out of bed if you want food!"

From Patrick's room, a loud groan is let out, and as per usual I hear the thump of a pillow against the door from Zach's room and a muffled, "Shut up!"

I roll my eyes and continue down the spiral staircase where Spot is waiting by the back door, jumping from paw to paw in anticipation. I open the door to the fenced-in backyard, and in moments all I see is a black and white blur running laps. He finally slows to a trot after a minute or two and then explores our yard, looking for a place to do his business or protect us from energetic squirrels. I watch him for a minute, making sure he doesn't jump the fence like last week, then move on to fill his bowl and check his water dish is clean and full.

By the time Patrick has meandered down the stairs, bleary-eyed and groaning, I've already started cooking breakfast; the smell of bacon wafts through the small kitchen. Patrick, dressed in his usual barn clothes, throws himself into his usual chair at the table by the window and yawns, rubbing his eyes.

"Long night at the barn?" I ask from the stove.

"Extremely. Captain colicked, so Jeff and I stayed with him until he sent me home. Long story short I'm in great need of coffee this morning," he sighs.

My brother gets out of his seat and lumbers toward our ancient coffeemaker. Before he gets the chance to add the coffee grounds, I speak up. "Hey, make sure you make enough for all three of us. Yesterday I only got half a cup, and Zach got nothing, so I had to deal with his bitching all the way to campus."

"Why don't you make him drive himself? C'mon Harley, he has his own car. Then you wouldn't have to deal with him in the morning, or be late to class once a week," Patrick remarked snarkily, pouring in enough grounds for more than just himself.

"Because if I do that, then he complains to me all day about how he didn't get a parking spot, or he overslept and didn't get breakfast and all that. My professor already understands and I would rather deal with ten minutes of listening to him gripe than having my phone blow up all day." The mere thought of him sending countless texts had me rolling my eyes.

Before he can start an argument that we've had for months, I add, "I refuse to drive you. You constantly stink up my car with your reek of either chlorine or the barn."

Patrick huffs indignantly and stands up, stretching his arms above his head looking out the window.

"Oh hey, can you let Spot back in? I think he's done outside, plus I'd like him to stay in the yard this week" Picking up more slices of raw bacon and dropping them in the pan, my brother nods, gets up, opens the back door and calls for the dog, who had been staring intently at a bird in the neighbor's tree for probably the past five minutes or so. Our brave protector.

I slide the bacon onto a paper-towel covered plate and set it on the table. I set three more plates around the table, as well as the milk and cereal from the pantry. As I go to grab bowls from the cabinet, I notice it's strangely quiet for a school morning. Looking up and not seeing my youngest brother thumping down the stairs, I stalk over to the bottom step, almost screaming, "Zach! Get your ass down here! I'm not going to be late because of you!"

Patrick returns to the table and I hear the skittering of claws on the kitchen tile. Spot races through the kitchen towards his food bowl, knowing his routine by heart. He digs in, happily munching on his breakfast as my stomach starts to rumble.

After what seems like ten minutes, I hear a door open, and my brother's blonde head poke out. "Fine, _Dad_. Sorry it took me a bit to get ready._ Some_ people don't have time to eat breakfast in our boxers and slippers."

I roll my eyes and stalk back toward the kitchen, calling, "I don't give a shit, and don't call me Dad. You do realise you'd have more time to get dressed if you actually got out of bed early enough."

After a few minutes, Zach marches down the stairs, dressed in his normal Imperial University T-shirt and joggers. As per the usual morning, he says nothing to either me nor Patrick and sits down grabbing three pieces of bacon.

I get a bowl from the cabinet above the sink and sit down pouring myself some Lucky Charms and a glass of milk. As I being to eat, I hear the chime of the clock above the stove. I glance at it, noting the time: I have an hour before my nine-thirty class to dress and get my idiot brother in the car.

After I finish my meal, I head upstairs to change out of my pjs. This prompts Spot—who had been laying on the rug in front of the stove—to jump up and follow me to my room. He jumps onto my bed and lays down at the foot of the bed, laying his head down and watches me. I watch him fondly, and chuckle at his antics. It seems like ages ago since I brought him home from the shelter, even if it was only a year ago. I had just moved in then.

He had been a pretty large pup for a six-month-old Great Dane/Pitbull mix, but had the disproportionate body of a young puppy. Now, he had finally grown into himself and had no clue just how large he was. I could no longer leave anything on my bed for extended periods of time anymore, since it will end up either crushed, flung off the bed, or shredded from massive paws.

I turned away from Spot toward my window, analyzing the weather to decide what I'll wear. The trees by my walkway were swaying in the cold October wind, and leaves were blowing across the ground in swirls. I shudder at the thought of the cold and pull on my standard outfit: dark wash jeans, gray sweater, and a emerald colored scarf that my mom bought me for Christmas last year. As I pulled on my old combat boots, Spot hops off my bed to sit at my feet, tail thumping against the hardwood floor in excitement, expecting to go on a morning walk. I give him a good scratch behind the ears. "Sorry, buddy. I have class today. Tomorrow I promise we'll go out."

Seemingly satisfied with my answer, he trots out of the room and disappears down the stairs. I finish tying up my boots, and head to the bathroom. The perks of being the oldest brother/owner of the house is that I get the master bedroom, as well as the bathroom connected to it. My brothers share the bathroom across the hall from their rooms. I have to listen to them argue almost every morning: whether it's Zach's ungodly long showers, Patrick's disgusting barn clothes or swimsuits left on the floor, I'm thankful I'll never have to share a living space with them again.

I brush my teeth and run my fingers through my hair, taming my mop of shaggy black hair. For work at Dad's company I like to keep it sleek and tidy, but I leave it a mop everywhere else.

Seeing that it won't get any better, I head to my room, grab my backpack and go downstairs to where Zach is—surprisingly—waiting for me, messenger bag in hand. I ruffle Patrick's hair as I pass the table. "Clean up this mess, will ya Horse Boy? I gotta get to class."

My brother glares at my use of his nickname, but begrudgingly grunts in an, "Uh huh."

I look to Zach, who's absent-mindedly texting, and whistle at him. He looks up, startled. "What? Are you ready yet?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm surprised you are."

I reach for my keys hanging up by the door. Zach sighs, "I promised Ella I'd get coffee with her before her class. Can we go now?"

I laugh at the thought of Zach's girlfriend begging him to get up earlier than ten minutes before class starts. I open the garage door, "C'mon then. You don't wanna piss her off, unless you have already, 'cause then it would be an apology coffee date."

Zach runs his fingers through his hair in a guilty habit, not looking me in the eye. I roll my eyes, "I don't want to know, I don't care. Get in the damn car."

After the usual uneventfulness that is driving my little brother to campus, I finally get the chance to ditch him. I park outside the Student Center and shut off the car, "Get out."

Zach rolls his eyes, "Thanks Har. I'll catch a ride home with Ella."

"You better. I'm not taking your sweaty-ass athletic-self home. I like my car smelling like, ya know, a _car_," I remark as he gets out, which prompts him to shut the door a little harder than normal. _Oops, Houston, I have struck a nerve_. The time on the dash reads 9:00. I have exactly thirty minutes until my class begins.

I groan, and get out of my car grabbing my backpack from the backseat. I start heading toward my class the usual route, until I notice a sign outside the Student Center. Its old and sun-faded face advertises the student run garden by the Amphitheater grounds. The Amphitheater is a bit out of my way, and the plants are probably starting to retreat into their hibernation state for winter. But it is right next to my class building, and I have time to kill. With any luck, I'll see something pretty, and not be awkwardly waiting for class to start in the lobby.

With a mental shrug, I turn down the path that will eventually lead me to the garden.

As I pass by the Amphitheater, I am in awe of just how much the Botany and Horticulture Science students have transformed the grounds. Small gardens with flowers still in bloom are encircled by colorful stones down the walkways, and a greenhouse has been set up behind the Plant and Animal Wing of the Sciences Building. No wonder I've never noticed it before. My classes are always in the East Wing, the Human Sciences Wing. I step between two large oak trees to get a better look at the greenhouse.

It's not very large, but it still is an impressive structure. I notice a small, dark red work glove laying in the grass outside the open door, and creep closer to inspect it. The grounds are silent; not a soul has passed through this oasis of a garden it seems. For some reason, I feel almost like I'm trespassing, similar to a burglar coming to steal something precious from this quiet, peaceful home. When I finally approach the glove, I notice it's quite small and covered in what looks like potting soil. I reach down and pick it up, looking for either its twin, or the owner.

As I look around, I see the open door of the greenhouse and step toward it, searching for signs of someone in there. Before I get too close to the door, a curvy, frazzled-looking girl with the thickest and most beautiful hair I've ever seen comes stalking out. Without noticing me, she searches the ground around the door, muttering to herself,

"God dammit, where is my stupid glove!"

She searches for a minute, then stands up straight, huffing in frustration. She finally notices there's another person standing mere yards from her.

She jumps in shock. "Ope! I'm sorry! I didn't see you there! You scared the shit out of me!" She puts her hand to her chest, as if to calm a racing heart and closes her eyes. I step toward her, holding out the glove, opening my mouth to speak.

Before I can get a word out, she turns to me, her brilliant eyes moving me to silence. She looks down at my hands, finally seeing the glove in between them like a dark fruit.

"My glove! You found it! Oh thank you so much! It must've fallen out of my backpack on my way here this morning." Mumbling, "...I swear it feels like the fourth time this week…"

She dashes forward and takes the glove from my hands; her hands are surprisingly rough from gardening. She begins checking it closely for rips or tears, and then turns to go back into the greenhouse. I stand in silence, unsure what to do or say.

Before reaching the door, she turns around and offers me another brilliant smile. "Thanks again...uhm, I don't think I got your name."

"Uh," I stammer, forgetting my own name, "Harley. My name is Harley. Like the bike."

"Well, thank you Harley. You're a lifesaver." She laughs lightly at her own joke, and disappears into the greenhouse, shutting the door behind her.

I jump at the sound of the door shutting, abruptly shaking me from my stupor. I turn to head toward the Sciences building, giving the greenhouse one last look before heading to my first class of the day.

**Thank you for completing the first chapter! Please remember to give this a like or review. Tell me what you think! I'd love to hear your opinions. See you next time!**


End file.
